


Voltron: Bar and Nightclub.

by BRR77872



Category: Voltron - Fandom, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, M/M, Pidge is a meme queen, Pidge | Katie Holt is Savage, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Stripper! Keith, This is my favorite piece I’ve done so far tbh, shiro is a Dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 06:09:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13874781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BRR77872/pseuds/BRR77872
Summary: Lance couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed for spotting a boner, that man’s body was downright sinful and he knew how to use it, it wasn’t Lance’s fault that he’d reacted like every other rational human being.orLance is dragged to a strip club by his friends. He gets an unexpected lap dance.





	Voltron: Bar and Nightclub.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed be short and to the point but I had too much fun writing for Pidge and got a little carried away. Sorry (not really).
> 
> Keiths performance song: https://youtu.be/De4MX7lLaio (System by Chester Bennington. Warning, it’s very very emo.)

When Lance told his friends he wanted to do something fun for his twenty first birthday, this wasn’t what he meant. As much as Lance talks a big game he would think Pidge and Hunk know him well enough to figure out that ‘fun’ really meant having a sleepover with his two best buds, staying up until three in the morning watching _Parks and Recreation_ on Netflix and maybe having a drink or two.

Clearly he misjudged how well his friends really knew him. That much was apparent as he stood on the sidewalk of busy New York City streets, staring at a neon blue sign that spelled out the name of the establishment: Voltron. And, in much smaller letters under it: Bar and Nightclub.

“Isn’t she a beauty? Just imagine all the filth that must be going on in there.” Pidge’s voice came from his left side and he turned to look at the short girl. Her hands were on her hips, her chin up and her glasses were reflecting the blue light of the neon sign. She looked like a small ball of pure evil. Lance’s nose wrinkled.

“Yeah, that’s _exactly_ why I don’t want to go in.” He protested. Hunk, who was to his right, laughed, clasping his hand onto Lance’s shoulder.

“Loosen up, man.” He said. “You’re twenty-one! We can’t always celebrate your birthdays by binge watching something on Netflix.”

Okay so Lance takes that back, maybe they knew him better than he thought.

“Exactly.” Pidge said with a nod of her head. “Stop being a loser for once and do something spontaneous.”

Lance didn’t know why the hell she was talking, the most spontaneous thing Pidge ever did was stay up until four in the morning playing D&D when she knew she had class at eight the same day.

“I do _plenty_ of spontaneous things, thank you very much.” Lance said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Pidge turned to look at him, her face blank. “Finishing all four seasons of _Narcos_ in one night doesn’t count, Lance.”

Lance sputtered, his cheeks turning red. Hunk rolled his eyes with a heavy sigh at their squabbling.

“Guys guys! We’re here to have a good time and celebrate Lance’s birthday. Can we actually make it inside the building before we start ripping each others heads off?”

Both begrudgingly agreed, and as soon as they stepped into the dark lights of the strip club and the entire mood shifted. Whoever designed this place had to be some sort of God. The lights were low and tinted red, a large stage sat in the middle of the room with a silver pole in the center and comfy looking black chairs sat in a circle pulled up to what seemed to be a bar top installed into the stage. A few feet away was another stage with the same set up, and just behind the stages was the bar. Slurty music drifted through the speakers as a girl danced on a pole farther down the line, she seemed to be gathering quite a crowd.

There were tons of people here. And yeah, Lance expected it to be busy, it was a Friday after all, but it was making him very self conscious. Most of the people here were guys (although there was the ocasional lady floating around) and they all seemed glassy eyed and lost. It was kind of sad, actually.

Pidge seemed to notice his discomfort right away. “Come on, Lance. Let’s go get drinks. Hunk find us a place to sit.” She instructed. Hunk nodded with mock seriousness, saluting Pidge before going off to find them some decent seats. Pidge dragged him to the bar and they didn’t say anything for a long moment.

“We can leave if you don’t want to be here.” She offered finally, not looking at Lance as she drummed her fingers on the bar top. Lance turned to look at her with a small smile. “No it’s cool, just a lot to take in. Besides, imagine all the stories I can tell about this later.”

Pidge cracked a smile and snorted. “What? About you being completely lame and complaining about being here the whole time?” She joked, turning back around as the bartender approached them. He was tall and buff with a tuft of white hair and a prosthetic arm. Totally badass, if you asked Lance. He smiled at them.

“What can I get you?” He asked. Lance hesitated but Pidge didn’t seem to miss a beat, whipping out her ID (which was a fake, Lance would know, he helped her make it) and ordering three rum and cokes. The bartenders eyes sparkled knowingly but he simply pressed his mouth in a hard line, as if he were trying not to scold someone, before nodding and going to prepare their drinks.

Lance raised a eyebrow at Pidge, completely forgetting about the insult he was going to use on her earlier for calling him lame.

“Am I missing something here?” Lance asked. Pidge shrugged. “No, nothing important. I know the guy making our drinks is all. He knows I’m underag-“

Lance slapped his hand over her mouth, staring at her with wide eyes. “Shush!!! You’ll give us away- EWW PIDGE!” Lance yanked his hand back as she licked it, wiping her saliva on his jeans with mild disgust. Pidge sat there with a victorious smirk on her lips.

The bartender came back before Lance got the chance to properly throttle his friend, giving two of the drinks to Lance and handing the other one to Pidge. Said girl eyed the liquid suspiciously.

“There’s no alcohol in this, is there?” She asked, lifting an eyebrow. The guy shook his head, grin on his lips. “Nope.” He said easily. Pidge’s shoulders fell.

“Seriously Shiro, How the hell do you manage to Dad Block me in a fucking _Strip Club_?” Pidge grumbled, sipping her coke as if she was in mourning. Shiro was good natured enough to laugh.

“It’s a talent.” He claimed. “Now introduce me to your friend.” At this Pidge perked up slightly, motioning her drink to Lance as she spoke.

“Lance this is everyone’s resident soccer Dad, Shiro, Shiro this is Lance, my resident goofball. It’s his birthday today.”

Lance pouted at the name but overlooked it in favor of turning his attention to this Shiro character.

“Really? That’s great! Happy birthday.” Shiro said happily.

Lance smiled easily, leaning on the bar top. “Thanks, man.” He said, pulling his drink to his lips and taking a swig. “Now please tell me how you had the misfortune of meeting this gremlin.” Lance said with a smirk. They both ignored Pidge’s outraged protest at the nickname and Shiro laughed.

“Unfortunately I’ve known her for most of my life. There was never a time when Pidge wasn’t in my ear, whispering memes while I slept to haunt me.” Shiro shuddered.

Lance nodded knowingly. “Cheers, I’ll drink to that, bro.” He said almost unconsciously, bringing his drink to his lips and taking a long swig. Before he even realized what he’d said Pidge was cracking up and Shiro was shaking his head, muttering “Not you too...” under his breath. When Lance finally caught on he muttered a small, “Dammit Pidge, I’ve been hanging out with you too much.” Before downing the rest of his drink. There was nothing wrong with memes, Lance loved them actually, but Pidge was on a whole other level. She basically spoke in meme format twenty four seven. She even ran a successful meme account. Half of the things out of her mouth were meme or vine references

Shiro grabbed his empty glass without Lance having to even ask, quickly mixing him up another drink before sliding it back over to Lance’s waiting hands.

“So I’m guessing you brought him here for the special show tonight.” Shiro said, expertly changing the subject. Pidge nodded with a big, sinister grin.

“Of course I did.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow and Pidge scoffed. Lance could only watch in awe, it was like she freaking read his mind or something.

“Does he _look_ straight to you, Shiro?” Pidge asked. Lance takes offense. He didn’t know what their whole silent conversation was about but he wouldn’t be insulted in such a way, _of course_ he wasn’t straight.

“Hey, why would I look straight, Pidge? You think so lowly of me.” Lance said, holding his hand to his chest in genuine offense.

Pidge snorted out a laugh, “It’s okay Lance, you’ll always be my perfect bi boi. Always remember that.” At that Lance pretended to wipe away a stray tear. Shiro merely shook his head at their antics.

“Well you better head back if you want to get good seats for the show.” The man said. Pidge nodded in agreement and slapped the money they owed down onto the table top.

“Shit, you right.” She said, pushing herself away from the counter. She waved at Shiro as she dragged Lance away, too.

“See you later, soccer Dad!”

And, like a true Dad, Shiro waves back, calling, “If I catch you with a drink tonight I’ll skin you alive!” Pidge simply laughs, but it sounds a little nervous.

It doesn’t take them long to spot Hunk in the crowd. He’s managed to grab them seats at the center stage, right in front of the pole. Admittedly Lance was getting a little excited, now. Sure this wasn’t sitting at home with his friends watching Netflix, but this was actually turning out to be pretty fun. Not to mention the fact that Hunk was acting like a freaking priest warding off demons whenever one of the dancers got close. He flinched when anyone touched him and Lance nearly pissed himself when his face went white when a girl came over to him and offered a lap dance.

“Um, no, uh, thanks,” he had said, “It’s not that you’re not pretty or anything!” He added hurriedly after, “I have a girlfriend. I’m just here for my friends birthday.” And then he looked over at Lance and Pidge, his eyes screaming _help me_! He and Pidge had then proceeded to laugh their asses off.

Before Lance even knew it he’d blow through four drinks. Pidge cut him off after he downed the fourth because she said she wanted him to be coherent enough for the show. And it wasn’t like Lance was drunk or anything, just slightly tipsy. And what was this freaking show they kept mentioning? The entire time they’d been there not one person had touched, much less approached the stage they sat in front of. Lance wasn’t complaining or anything, if this was what his friends had in mind for tonight then he was totally cool with getting drunk with his buddies at a surprisingly classy Strip Club, but it was clear that they had planned more. Every time Lance asked about what performance Pidge was talking about the girl simply said “Relax, it’s gonna happen soon.”

As two in the morning drew near the place seemed to get even more crowded. Chairs next to them started filling in and Lance figured that this was because of the big performance Pidge said was going to happen. Whoever the hell this was must’ve been all types of amazing because people were basically fighting for the seats around the stage. Pidge was physically _thrumming_ with excitement and Hunk was miserable, his cheeks were completely red and he was hiding his face in his hands.

And then the music stopped and an announcement from an unmistakably male British voice sounded over head.

“Three minutes until the performance you’ve all been waiting for!” It called. Pidge bounced excitedly in her seat and Hunk was already up on his feet, muttering “No, nope. Not again, I can’t watch this again.”

“Three minutes!” The voice called again. Lance shifted excitedly in his seat, turning to look at Hunk.

“Hey man, do you want to leave? I know you’re uncomfortable.” Lance asked, worry clear in his voice. Hunk immediately shook his head.

“No no, it’s okay, have fun, really. I’m just going to head over to the bar to talk to Shiro. You really should stay though.” He said hurriedly. Pidge latched onto Lance’s arm, leaning over and quite literally wedging herself into the conversation.

“Come on come on its starting soon!” She said excitedly. As if on cue the lights dimmed. Before Lance could worry about Hunk anymore he’d already scampered off to the bar, abandoning Lance to sit with Pidge. He couldn’t stay worried for long because excitement took over his body, Pidge’s whole vibe was starting to rub off on him.

The lights dimmed enough to where the only real light was coming from the center stage. The same British voice from before came on over the speakers,

“Please welcome the Red Paladin.”

Everyone became quiet and slowly music filtered into the room.

How does Lance describe it? It felt like he was in a trance. A man walked barefoot on stage in time with the slow, slightly creepy melody of the music, wearing tight low rise leather pants and a tight red crop top. His skin was pale and almost seemed translucent in the lighting, his black hair was tied back, a few loose strands falling in front of his face.

And God was his face a sight to see. High cheekbones and full pink lips with the darkest eyes Lance thinks he’s ever seen. The guy was beautiful, without a doubt.

He began to circle his way around the pole as the slow beginning melody of the song continued to play out. Lance’s eyes were glued to the stage. He could hear Pidge snickering next to him at his response, but it didn’t matter because all of his attention was focused on the beautiful black haired man before him.

He gripped the pole with one hand, slowly leaning himself back, his right leg raising up in the air as his left arm slid down. When his entire upper body laid on the floor he brought the leg he had in the air to down to cross over his left leg and then splayed out on the ground. He kicked his legs back and spun around so that he was straddling the pole, his legs spread wide, gripping the pole with both hands and pulling himself up, rolling his body into the pole as he gracefully climbed to his feet.

“ _You fell away, what more can I say_?   
_The feelings evolved, I won’t let it out._  
 _I can’t replace your screaming face_  
 _Feeling the sickness inside._ ”

The beat dropped and heavy guitar filtered through the speakers. The man wrapped his fingers around the pole, his muscles flexing as he lifted himself off of the ground, his legs pointed in the air as he turned himself slowly.

“ _Why won’t you die?_  
 _Your blood in mine._  
 _We’ll be fine._  
 _Then your body will be mine_.”

He worked his way up the pole, swinging his legs above his head and locking his thighs around the pole. He stretched his body out as he laid upside down, and that was the exact moment they locked eyes.

Lance thinks he forgot how to breathe. The guys eyes were fucking gorgeous and so _intense_. They could’ve only been staring at each other for a split second but it felt like forever. A little smirk quirked at the corner of those pink lips and Lance drew in a shaky breath, but it was over all too quickly. They broke eye contact when he flipped his legs gracefully off of the pole, his back bending elegantly until he was standing upright again.

“ _So many words can’t describe my face_   
_This feelings evolved, so soon to break out_  
 _I can relate to a happy state_  
 _Feeling the blood run inside._ ”

He moved his hips slowly in time with the best of the drums before gripping the pole tightly with one hand and lifting himself up off of the ground, spinning and bending his body around the pole in ways that Lance was pretty sure were impossible. And then, when he was at the top, he wrapped his entire body around the pole and just _dropped_. Lance probably would’ve screamed if his mind hadn’t felt so sluggish, and it was a good thing that he hadn’t because the man caught himself right before he could smack against the ground. And then he uncurled from around the pole looking very pleased with himself like it was all apart of the show.

“ _Why won’t you die?_  
 _Your blood in mine_.  
 _We’ll be fine._  
 _Then your body will be mine._ ”

He lifted himself up again and slowly spun around like he was walking on air before sliding his way down the pole and dropping into a split. He rolled his way onto his knees as the breakdown of the song played through the speakers, crawling across the stage and before Lance even realized it the guy was on his hands and knees in front of him, his tongue slowly licking over his top lip. Lance swallowed thickly and the guy sat up on his knees, arching his back, running his hands through his hair in a way that made it come out of the ponytail.

“ _Why is everything so fucking hard for me?_  
 _Keep me down to what you think I should be._   
_Must you temp me and provoke the ministry?_  
 _Keep on trying, I’m not dying so easily._ ”

He climbed over the bar top and Lance was frozen in his seat as his empty glass was pushed to the side. He swung his legs over the bar top and hopped off so that he stood on his feet, both of his hands coming to rest on the armrest of Lance’s chair, successfully trapping him in as he stepped between Lance’s legs and rolled his body, keeping his dark eyes locked with Lance’s blue ones.

“ _(I will not die) Why is everything so fucking_ _hard for me?_  
 _(I will not die) Why is everything so fucking_ _hard for me?_  
 _(I will not die)_ ”

He turned around, his hands on Lance’s knees as he worked his hips in hypnotic circles, bending down fully at the waist to give Lance a nice view of his ass before turning around and climbing his way into Lance’s lap, grinding his hips down slowly and running his hands up and down his toned body. Lance’s mouth went dry and all he could do was stare and try to breathe. The man looked at him with half lidded eyes, leaning forward and pressing his chest flush against Lance’s, carding his fingers through Lance’s hair as he moved his hips.

“ _Why won’t you die?_  
 _Your blood in mine._  
 _We’ll be fine._  
 _Then your body will be mine._ ”

Lance muttered out a small, “Fuck..” and he was ashamed to admit that his voice sounded completely fucking broken. The dancer grinned at that and climbed off of Lance’s lap, shooting him a wink before climbing back up onto stage. Lance could feel people staring at him and if he looked back he was sure he would be able to find that the entire room was envious of him, but this guy had him in a trance. All Lance could do was stare at the black haired beauty who was working the pole like he was fucking meant to do it.

“ _Why won’t you die?_  
 _Your blood in mine._  
 _We’ll be fine._  
 _Then your body will be mine._ ”

He whipped his black hair around and rolled his hips onto the pole before lifting himself up and climbing to the top, his legs out in the air as he bent at the torso and slowly spun back down the pole in a way that reminded Lance of a quark screw. And as the music slowly faded he landed gracefully back onto his feet, rolling his body flush onto the pole before slowly sliding back down until he laid flat on the floor, his ass propped up in the air, moving slowly from side to side. He rolled onto his back and finished his dance resting on his knees, one hand on the pole and the other running down his chest, biting his bottom lip.

Lance couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed for spotting a boner, that man’s body was downright sinful and he knew how to use it, it wasn’t Lance’s fault that he’d reacted like every other rational human being. So instead of being embarrassed with himself he thought about any and everything that was gross, willing the straining in his pants to go away. After a while (and one last final image of how his mother would slap him upside the head with her _chancla_ if she caught him here) the pressure in his pants went away. Not completely, he was still half hard, but no one would notice in the darkness of the club so he figured he was safe.

When Lance opened his eyes his senses were assaulted with the sound of the room being filled with applause and shouts of praise. Money was basically being thrown at the ‘Red Paladin’ and damn, Lance was tempted to throw _himself_ at the guy.

  
Instead he hurriedly fished in his pockets for his wallet. Lance felt kind of bad, this guy had just given an amazing show but Lance only had a ten on him. That dance deserved _a lot_ more than ten dollars, dammit.

And it just didn’t feel right to throw money at him like he was some animal. So Lance sat there awkwardly, gripping a ten dollar bill tightly in his hand as he watched the beauty make his way around the stage and calmly collect his earnings. It didn’t take him long to get to the side where they sat and before he noticed them Pidge abruptly turned to look at Lance, shoving an one hundred dollar bill in his hands.

“Don’t ask,” She said hurriedly, “Just remember that your friend Pidge is always looking out for you.” She gave Lance a quick grin and turned around as if on cue. The man stood in front of them, completely unsuspecting of the exchange that had just gone down.

“Keith!” Pidge said with a grin on her lips as the guy, Keith, came to sit at the edge of the stage, “My favorite emo boi!”

Keith rolled his eyes at the nickname but seemed more than used to it. “Pidge,” He said, his voice monotone and a lot deeper than Lance expected, “Beloved pain in my ass.”

Pidge wrinkles her nose. “Eww, I’d rather not be in your ass. Only God knows what’s been in there.” Keith gave her a heated glare but had nothing to say in response. Lance didn’t blame him, Pidge was notorious for wrecking anyone and everyone with her witty comebacks.

“ _I’d_ like to be in that ass.”

Lance didn’t realize he’d said anything out loud until both heads turned to look at him. Pidge was looking at him like he was the biggest fuck up in the entire word, shaking her head and Keith was looking at him with a small smirk on those pink lips, tilting his head.

“Please excuse Lance,” Pidge said sarcastically, “His mother dropped him on his head when he was born. Twice.”

Lance’s eyes were wide with embarrassment. “I told you that in confidence, Pidge!” He exclaimed. Keith butted in with a smug grin.

“He’s not very bright, is he?” Keith said, turning his head to look at Pidge. She shook her head like a disappointed mother.

“He tries sometimes but it’s just sad.”

Lance bristled.

“I’m literally right here. You’re talking about me and I’m _right here_. Have some decency.” Lance said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hey, I’m not the one who told a guy he just met that he wanted to ‘be in that ass’” Keith pointed out, making air quotations with his fingers. Lance’s hand clenched tightly around the hundred dollar bill in his hand, embarrassment blooming in his chest.

“That’s not any weirder than _you_ giving a complete stranger,  _me_ , a free lap dance during the song, which sucked by the way, you were supposed to be performing to.” Lance said, waving his arms angrily in the air like some sort of pelican.

Keith narrowed his eyes, his expression murderous and dammit why was that hot?!

“First of all who said it was free? And second of all that song is a _classic_.” Keith claimed, hopping down from the counter and pushing his shoulders back as he stared at Lance, gaze unwavering. Lance figured it was supposed to be some sort of intimidation tactic but it was all he could do to restrain himself from jumping Keith’s bones that very second. The guy was turning out to be irritating and annoying but that didn’t change the fact that he was _stupidly_ attractive.

“You did when you basically threw yourself into my lap.” Lance said, narrowing his eyes. Keith stepped closer and they were chest to chest and Lance wanted to be as annoyed as he was aroused, he really did, but his intense need to yank the boy forward by his stupid mullet and kiss him until his lips were red and sore outweighed his need to punch him square in the face by a long shot.

“Well now I’m demanding payment due to you being a ginormous jackass.” Keith hissed. Lance, confused, aroused and pissed, pulled Keith flush against him by the belt loops of those stupid leather pants, their eyes locked as he shoved the hundred dollar bill aggressively into waistband of the pants. They stayed like that for a long moment before Pidge cleared her throat and Lance could almost see her rolling her eyes.

“If you guys are done with the dick measuring contest could we _please_ get something to drink? I’m dying over here!” She complained. Reluctantly both men stepped away from one another. Keith gave Pidge a look.

“You? With a drink? Shiro would kill you.” He said knowingly. Pidge shrugged with a wicked smirk.

“What Shiro doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

It was a memorable night. Lance may have gotten a little too drunk and was being followed around by a worried Hunk the majority night. (“Lance, no! You can’t drink from the bottle. Shiro, Stop him!” And Lance had figured out very quickly the effect of Shiro’s Dad voice.) But as soon as he and Keith started getting frisky Hunk promptly abandoned trying to reign Lance in and decided to enjoy the night as well. Somewhere along the way it was decided that Shiro was the designated driver so he simply watched everyone make a fool of themselves and nearly throttled Pidge when he caught her with a non-alcoholic drink. Lance’s memory was fuzzy but he remembered making out with Keith sloppily in the back seat of Shiro’s car as his friends complained about all of the sexual tension. And as Shiro dropped off a very drunk Lance, a tipsy Hunk and an annoyed sober Pidge (who only had two drinks before Shiro caught her and cut her off) at Lance’s apartment Lance vaguely remembers Keith slipping a one dollar bill in his pocket, pressing his lips quickly to Lance’s cheek and saying, “Call me.”

Getting up into his apartment and the shenanigans he, Hunk and Pidge got into while trying to set up his small living room for a sleepover was a blur. The only thing Lance was sure of was that as soon as his head hit his pillow he was out like a light.

(And the next morning Lance pulls the forgotten dollar bill out of his pocket to find a number scribbled across George Washington’s face and he can’t stop the grin that forms on his lips.)


End file.
